


Next Thursday

by Shampain



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, I think it counts as fluff, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Rey and Ben own a bar, Tropey as hell, inappropriate language, somewhat influenced by Logan Lucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24732760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shampain/pseuds/Shampain
Summary: Rey looked to be suffering, too, her face set in grim, determined lines as she continued to wipe at the already clean spot on the bar in front of her.“I hope it's not the universe,” she muttered to herself.“It's not the universe, Rey.”-It's decided: on Thursday, Poe is going to ask Armitage out. And he might even say yes, if they ever stop getting interrupted.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58





	Next Thursday

**Author's Note:**

> Life's crazy right now but I needed to get some idiocy out of my system!

He was finally going to do it, Poe decided when he walked into the bar that night, the sky still glowing with the setting summer sun. He was just... he was going to go up to Armitage Hux and he was going to ask him out and that was that.

“Oh my God,” Rey hissed, five minutes later when she set his beer down in front of him. The bar belonged to her and her cousin, Ben, and it made just enough money to keep them afloat. “You're going to pussy out again, aren't you?”

“That... don't say _that_ ,” Poe said, feeling like he ought to speak up for womankind, or suchlike.

She slung her bar towel over her shoulder and crossed her arms. “Do you object to my word choice, or to being called out?”

He pouted, picking up his beer and sulking off.

“Ask him before one of you dies of _old age_!” she warbled at his back.

One by one, the usual crowd began to trickle in, including several friends of theirs who would gather for whatever half-brained event Rey or Ben cooked up, even if it was just free pool. When Armitage came in like he always did every Thursday, bending to kiss Rey's cheek in a way that managed to be completely un-ironic, Poe bought him a beer. But Rey was right; he pussied out. Indeed, he pussied out quite spectacularly.

“Here's the thing,” Poe said, next Thursday. He was helping Rey hand-bomb the cases of beer from the delivery truck and into the back fridge, her new bartender having not shown up for her shift. “He's probably going to say no anyway. We are two completely different classes of people.”

“Poe, he's a lawyer, not heir to a mysterious fortune.”

She was right, of course. Still he pressed on, grasping for excuses. “Well, what if he's secretly racist?”

Rey set the case of beer he handed her down, heavily, gaping at him. Then she started to laugh. “Poe!” she half giggled, half scolded. “I'm not even going to justify that with an answer.”

“Alright, fine,” he said, while Rey got the bill of sale from the delivery driver. “I'll ask him tonight. Just stop glaring at me every time we're together... it's weird.”

“I'm sorry. I'm just invested now.”

He _was_ going to ask him. Their current topic of conversation was winding down, and for a moment they were alone; a perfect time for Poe to segue into asking him out. Honestly, he'd wanted to take the other man out for dinner shortly after meeting him, when over drinks Armitage had done a literal spit-take when someone said that they didn't get 'what the big deal was?' about _Hamilton_.

The moment Poe was opening his mouth Ben popped up, seemingly out of nowhere. “Hey, Poe. Armie,” he said, without preamble. “Can I borrow your beamer next week?”

“No. Why, what's next week?” Armitage asked, diverting all of his attention from Poe and right over to Ben. And the conversation was derailed; Poe lost momentum. Behind the bar, Rey doubled over, grasping at her heart and making an agonized face in his direction.

“I can't believe you used to worry he might not be into dudes,” Ben teased, because now _he_ knew – Rey had apparently flipped out on him for his colossally bad timing the minute they closed the up – and for some reason was oddly entertained about it. “You know he matches his socks with his tie.”

“Don't stereotype, that's not inherently homoerotic,” Poe replied. “That just means he's psychotic.”

“And you're into that?”

“I think it's pretty obvious that I am.”

On Thursday when Armitage came in, he wasn't there for two minutes before he got a phone call from work about some case emergency and had to leave. Poe placed his forehead onto the bar and groaned.

“Don't do that,” Ben said as he passed by. “You don't know what's happened on that bar. I do.”

Poe was starting to get fed up – completely, utterly fed up. What had started out as a simple task now required a gargantuan amount of energy, but also time. Each week now felt like an eternity of agony until he could manage to see Armitage again.

For next Thursday, he told himself he wasn't going to wait for anything. He was just going to go in and pull Armitage aside and ask because it was quite straightforward and really there didn't need to be so much _drama_ about this whole thing.

Poe walked in. Several of his friends were already there, like Finn and Jannah, all of them hanging around the pool table and laughing. Armitage was there too, his friend Phasma towering next to him in her glossy red pumps.

Right. This was happening.

Ten seconds later someone rear-ended Armitage's car in the parking lot.

Tuesday, and the bar was as quiet as it usually was at five in the afternoon. Feeling like he was at the end of his rope he had gone to seek out Rey right after he was done work, wanting to to ease his suffering and figuring she wouldn't be busy, anyway. Poe didn't know why he was surprised by his failure: this bad luck was typical of his life ever since Princess Di had died (well, roughly that time period).

But Rey looked to be suffering, too, her face set in grim, determined lines as she continued to wipe at the already clean spot on the bar in front of her.

“I hope it's not the universe,” she muttered to herself.

“It's not the universe, Rey. The universe, if it _does_ exert influence, does not care about my relationships or lack thereof.”

“You don't know that.” Her gaze shifted to over his shoulder, and her mouth opened in an 'o' of surprise. Poe wondered if one of her exes had just wandered in when she said, “Armie, hey. What're you doing here?”

Poe swivelled around on his bar stool as Armitage walked up, looking incredibly out of place – he tended towards more casual dress on Thursdays. In a suit, he was offensively sexy. Rey fled to the other end of the bar, where she pretended to be rearranging her speed rail.

“Poe,” he said, brusquely. “I need to talk to you about something. It's important. Which is...,” he stumbled for a moment, apparently confused, his cheeks flushing pink, “why... I am here. Right.”

“Um,” Poe replied, as intelligently as he could, which wasn't very. Maybe this was it, this was his chance to ask-

“You've been staring at me lately like you want to snap me in half.”

At the other end of the bar, Rey betrayed her eavesdropping by dropping a glass.

“Look,” Poe said, desperately, his heart hammering in his ears. “It's just that I don't even mind that you're psychotic.”

“I'm what?” Armitage asked, staring at him.

“For fuck's sake,” Rey groaned in frustration, not even bothering to lower her voice.

“Poe,” Armitage said, looking visibly annoyed by himself, Rey's shamelessness and just the whole situation. “Can I buy you dinner? Maybe right now? Before anything else ridiculous happens.”

Poe realized he was staring at Armitage in shock, probably looking like a complete idiot, if the other man's flushing face was any indication. “You knew what I was trying to do?” he managed.

Armitage blinked. “Excuse me?” he said. “I've been trying to ask you out for weeks.”

“You were?”

“Yes, go!” Rey shouted, suddenly. “He wants to go. Get the fuck out, please. I've been living in this Hell for months.”

A small smile flickered on Armitage's lips. “ _Months_?” he echoed, delicately.

Poe's face went hot. “Right, let's go,” he said, hurriedly, tossing cash on the bar to pay for a beer he had forgotten to order.

Armitage's car was still in the garage for repairs, so they climbed into Poe's truck, both of them possessed by the urge to get out of there before anything else happened.

“So,” Poe said, right when his phone went off. He fumbled it out of his pocket, flustered, glaring at the screen.

“Well?”

“It's work.”

Armitage took the phone out of his hand and chucked it into the backseat.

Poe nodded. “Smart,” he said, starting the engine.


End file.
